Enterprise Prime
by The Bluefire Phoenix
Summary: The clouds of war hang heavy over humanity as they take their first steps into the larger galactic arena. Captain Johnathan Archer will have to lead his crew in this growing storm and forge a place for Starfleet.
1. First Star on the Right… (Part 1) I

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 1: First Star on the Right… Part 1_

Act I

 _Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, 18 January 2151: After ten years of development, Starfleet is little over a year away from unveiling its greatest success so far: the NX project. We've been working overtime to get everything ready to go for the_ Enterprise _'s maiden voyage. Spirits are still high at headquarters._

 _Most of us captains have been eagerly awaiting to see who will be awarded the monumental command of_ Enterprise _. The simulation rooms have been booked solid for months now. Unfortunately I haven't had much time with them, thanks in part to the start of the spring semester. I still plan on getting my command one day. Until then I'll continue my work at the Academy._

The city of San Francisco was starting to stir in the early morning sun. Starfleet Academy and Headquarters was filling up cadets and staff going about their morning schedule. Several fresh faced cadets entered a large auditorium. On the stage was Captain Jonathan Archer dressed in his dark purple Starfleet uniform, lined with a yellow stripe around the shoulders and four silver pips proudly adorned on its chest. A pleasant smile greeted the cadets. His brown hair was meticulously combed.

A pleasant electronic bell chimed and the room went silent. Archer straightened out his uniform. He stepped up to the podium. "Good morning ladies and gentleman, welcome to Stellar Cartography one-oh-one," Archer cheerfully greeted. He took the remote off the podium and hit the power button. A projector lowered from the ceiling.

"For some of you this is an elective or something you are just trying to get out of the way. That's fine, but don't think that this is a blow off class," Archer declared. He gave the remote another click. The room dimmed and projector produced around three dozen white spheres above the students. The spheres came in a variety of sized and distance from one another.

The students looked up at them in slight confusion. "Can anyone tell me what this is?" Archer asked the class.

Some murmurs erupted but nothing substantial came of it. Archer took out a laser pointer and aimed the beam at the sphere closest to the center of the cluster. "I'll give you a hint: we are here, near the center of this sphere," he said. The mummers that followed pleased Archer a little more. "I think I heard it. This is a scale model representing every recorded solar system a human being has ever visited, a scant thirty-four in total. Any helmsmen or captain worth their salt will have this chart memorized."

Archer pushed another button. Fourteen of the spheres turned blue. "And anyone who values getting back to civilization will know this one well," he said. "These are the systems with a human colony in it." The captain hit another button and the spheres shrunk and hundreds of other spheres appeared. It formed a massive cluster.

"For scale, this is a model of our local cluster. So hopefully, you now realize how little we've actually explored," Archer added.

The class went well and after the last of the cadets left, Archer went out to a series of hangers situated near an air field not far from the academy. He stopped at one whose doors were parted open. The inside was illumined by the midmorning sun.

The captain walked to a desk near the center of the hanger. On it was dozens of scraps of paper, each filled with equations, star charts, and notes. The only other memorabilia on the desk was pair of charred work gloves near the edge of the desk.

The hanger hosted the disabled shell of a warp core. Various parts and tools were strewn all over the place. A pair of legs dressed in a Starfleet uniform stuck out from underneath the core. Archer walked over to the core and leaned on.

"You know boss-man, it this thing were alive you'd be a crisp little tender right about now," the man said, his voice muffled. He curled his legs up and started to crawl out from under the core.

Commander Trip Tucker stood up and dusted off his uniform; his shoulder stripe was red and had three pips on his chest. He walked over to Archer. His dark blond hair was a bit unkempt. A large smile was draped over his sweat covered face.

"And what about you?" Archer countered.

"Oh I reckon I'd be nothing more than black dust," Tucker said. His voice was line with a thick southern drawl. He laughed a little. Archer shook his head and went over to his desk. He sat down in the chair, eyes wearily going over the pages.

Tucker leaned forward on the desk and raised his hand in front of Archer's face. He snapped his fingers a couple of times causing Archer to recoil back into his chair.

"Hey boss-man, don't get lost in there," Tucker said. Archer rubbed his forehead.

"Sorry Trip. It's…well there is just so much to do here," Archer mumbled. He looked over his work and frowned. Trip was interrupted by the chirping of the captain's communicator. Archer flipped it open and answered.

"Archer here," he said in a much clearer voice.

"This is Admiral Forrest," a man bluntly greeted over the communicator. Archer reflexively straightened up. Trip cocked an eyebrow.

"Good to hear from you, Admiral. It's been too long," Archer said.

"Are you alone?" Forrest bluntly asked. Archer looked to Trip. The commander gave a half-hearted shrug.

"No sir, Commander Tucker is with me," Archer answered.

Forrest sighed. "Of course he is. Fine, both of your current duties are suspended and you are to report to the Cape Canaveral Base ASAP," the admiral ordered. Archer shot a confused look at Tucker.

"Sir?" Archer asked.

"You are not to speak a word of this to anyone. Failure to comply with these orders will result in an immediate dishonorable discharge from Starfleet."

The line went dead. Archer scratched his head. Tucker locked his finger together and sucked his teeth. Archer's communicator chirped again. The men exchanged a weary glance. The captain hit the answer button. "Archer here," the captain said again.

"Sir there is a Shuttlepod that just landed here and is saying it is for you and Commander Tucker," an uncertain comm officer reported.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Archer said. He closed his communicator.

Tucker gave a sharp whistle. "It's not like high command to be so…I don't know: jumpy," he commented.

Archer clipped his communicator to his belt and stood up. "I don't care for it myself Trip, but we better not keep the admiral waiting," he said.

The men exited the hanger, locking the door behind them. They walked down to the transport hub. A single Shuttlepod was there. Two guards red striped uniforms were standing by it. They had two pips on their chests and a Phase Pistol holstered on their hips.

They saluted Archer and Tucker. Archer saluted back. One of the guards suspiciously eyed Tucker for a moment. She nodded in approval. "Sir, you will take this unit straight to the Cape Canaveral Base. Do not stop for any reason," the other guard said.

"Will do," Archer said. The men boarded the Shuttlepod. Tucker took the pilot seat and began powering it up. Archer rubbed his cheekbone with his thumb.

Tucker froze mid-manipulation. "What's wrong?" Archer asked as he took the co-pilot seat.

"Well captain, there is no auto-pilot," Trip reported.

"You mean no auto-pilot route?" Archer attempted to correct.

"No sir, the auto-pilot is gone. Not off or disabled, just gone," Trip blabbered.

Archer cocked his head to the side. "Care to switch seats?" he nervously asked.

"Nah, I can do it."

"Are you sure? I mean really sure."

Trip raised a finger to the captain without looking away from the controls. "A captain should never have to pilot when there is a subordinate around," Trip insisted over the roar of the engines. "Besides I could use the flight time." The craft shuttered a bit as he lifted off the ground. Archer took a quick, anxious look around the controls. He double checked his seat belt.

The Shuttlepod skipped over the clear skies of the southern lands of the United States. It began to lower its trajectory. On the ground below a massive concrete complex of runways, platforms, and bunkers was interspersed with various hangers and warehouses.

"Shuttlepod Twenty-two Alpha, you are clear to land on pad seven," the comm officer at the Cape Canaveral Base said over the radio.

"Copy that, Canaveral Base. ETA two minutes, standby," Tucker said. He released the talk button just as the shuttle pod was buffeted by turbulence. Archer looked over to his pilot. The blonde haired man's brow was covered in a fresh layer sweat. His eyes were locked on the various gauges of the craft. He tightly gripped the controls. His knuckles were pale.

"You got it?" Archer asked. Trip nodded by awkwardly rocking his entire body. "Okay, take her in slowly."

"Will do boss-man," Tucker whispered. His head swiveled around, eyes locking onto the appropriate pad.

The balding Admiral Forrest was waiting at the foot of the pad. He wore a black admiral's uniform that did its best to hide how portly its wearer had become. The tie he wore under the tunic was a little off.

The two men got out of the Shuttlepod and saluted the admiral. Forest merely motioned for them to follow. It was a silent trip down to an out of the way bunker. The group made it down to the bottom of the fortification.

Outside an imposing steel door was a pair of guards. They quickly patted down Tucker and Archer then let them through. Forrest walked to the end of the chamber. He sat at the left end of a table that was already occupied by two other admirals. Two chairs were placed ominously before the admirals.

Admiral Gardner was at the center most position. He was the youngest man at the table, easily in his mid-fifties. His green eyes wearily shifted between the two subordinate officers from underneath lightly thinned brown hair. A remote was sitting on the table near his left hand.

To Gardner's left was Admiral Douglas, who appeared slightly older than the other two admirals. He was still in excellent shape. His silver hair was cut extremely short. Douglas kept his hands locked and set on the table.

Archer hesitantly sat on one of the chairs in front of the table. Tucker quickly followed suit. The door sealed shut. The lights dimmed.

"Captain Archer and Commander Tucker, the contents of this meeting will not leave this room. Is that clear?" Admiral Gardner ordered.

The subordinate officers nodded. Their chairs turned around and a screen lowered from the ceiling. A star map appeared on the screen. Archer's eyes quickly scanned the map, recognizing it. Tucker brushed it off.

The captain briefly brushed his upper lip with his index finger. "That's Vulcan space," Archer said.

"Yes captain, and this," Admiral Gardner said. He hit a button on the remote. Several copies of the Vulcan High Command's insignia appeared. They were fairly evenly distributed throughout the territory. Tucker lightly clenched his fist.

"Is the deployment of the Vulcan fleet a year ago," Gardner finished. He clicked another button. "This is their deployment as of last week." The icons were now concentrated on the upper edge of the screen.

"The Vulcan High Command insists that they are merely starting a large scale fleet exercise," Gardner added.

"I take it you don't believe them," Archer opined.

"We believe that their talks with the Andorian Empire over colonization rights along their shared border are starting to fail," Douglas continued.

The screen pulled up and Archer and Tucker's chairs spun back around. "If it comes to war, there is a good chance we will be targeted due to our alliance with the Vulcans. If it turns to war, the Vulcans may not be able to defend our territory as well as theirs," Douglas said. Tucker murmured something under his breath. Archer jabbed him in the ribs.

"In short captain, we are hilariously unprepared for such an outcome. That's why we've moved _Enterprise_ 's launch date up," Forrest grimly announced.

Archer straightened up at the news. "Is that wise admiral, there are so many things that could wrong with that decision. We could forget—"

"What about hilariously unprepared did you not understand, Captain? Our merchant fleet can barely fight off pirates, let alone out run them. We have seventeen extrasolar colonies and our only direct line of communication is through our ill-equipped freighters. Captain we need to get out there, otherwise this little venture of ours will be snuffed out before it even has a chance to really get going," Gardener prophesized.

Archer nodded in understanding.

Tucker crossed his arms. "What can one NX do to fend off an invading enemy exactly? They aren't what I'd call battleships, sir," he spoke up.

The admirals narrowed in on Tucker for a brief moment. "You are correct, commander. However we don't have a lot of options at the moment. Something is better than nothing at this point," Forest answered. Archer squirmed a bit in his seat.

"Your mission will remain the same, regardless of the political climate: Explore uncharted systems, build infrastructure, and defend the interests of Starfleet and humanity in general," Gardner assured the officers.

"Your, as in mine?" Archer sputtered. "Are you saying that you are giving me command of _Enterprise_?" Archer finally asked.

"Yes captain, we believe that you are the best fit for this posting. What say you?" Douglas asked.

"Of…of course I…I accept, sir," Archer answered. He took a deep breath. "Do—do the Vulcans know about this?"

Gardner shook his head. "Not at the moment."

"Why the deception then?" Archer followed up.

"The Vulcans have been handholding us pretty much since we developed Warp capability. We think it's time to show them we are ready to stand on our own," Forrest said. Tucker nodded in agreement with a pleased smirk.

"Alright, you have until April to pick out your officers and crew. Until then you are relieved of all other duties. The gag order will remain in place until we make the official announcement," Gardner informed. "Starfleet is at your disposable, captain."

The meeting adjourned. Forrest escorted the younger officers back to the shuttle. Archer paused at the bottom of the steps. He took a deep breath.

"Why did you choose me, sir?" Archer asked the admiral.

Forrest bit his lip a moment. "Come on, John. You are the best cartographer in Starfleet and—"

"You and I know that are far more qualified captains than me."

A small chuckle rumbled out of Forrest's throat. "You're right. I suppose you should know the truth. In the end it came down to politics. As it happens, you step on the least amount of toes," Forrest lamented.

"Is that all? I got the job simply because I happen to be convenient?"

"I'm sorry but it's the truth. As much as we'd like to believe Starfleet represents the best of humanity and its values, in reality we're nothing more than a bunch of squabbling bureaucrats looking to score a few point. Look at us John. We are a fleet without a damn fleet. I have dozens of officers squabbling to get into space but no way to get them there. That's why I am glad you're the one going. You haven't got caught up in the race. I'm sorry if that deflates the romance of it all, but Starfleet isn't about the romance," he admitted. Archer stoically saluted and boarded the craft without another word. Something twitched in the pit of his stomach.

Tucker gracelessly took off from the pad once everyone was clear. He started back to San Francisco. A quick glance at Archer brought a frown to his face.

"What's wrong? You just got a historic posting and you look like someone just shot Porthos," he said. Archer shook his head.

"It's nothing Trip," Archer muttered. He stared out the window.

"Well don't be so down then boss-man, pretty soon the two of us will be the first guys to go cruisin' through the galaxy at smooth Warp Five," Trip insisted.

Archer jokingly rolled his eyes. "What makes you think you're coming with me Commander Tucker?" he asked his pilot.

Tucker turned to Archer with an almost evil glare. "With all due respect Captain Archer, you ain't even going into orbit if I ain't there to make sure that your ship is stays in good order. Sir," Tucker declared in a snarl. Archer snorted a laugh.

"Well then, I guess that's one down. Only eighty-three to go," Archer mused as the shuttle passed over the Rocky Mountains.

 _To be Continued..._

* * *

A/N: Prime may seem like an odd and presumptuous name for a project title. But in mathematics, a prime represents the derivative of an equation. That is the definition I'm using as is a good parallel to the goal of this project. _Enterprise_ has a reputation for being the really bad Trek series. I can't say I disagree with that assessment. It had a lot of problems but also had some good ideas and hell even some good moments. This project will try to take out the problems and attempt to add to the good stuff.

The most obvious detriment to _Enterprise_ is the prequel problem. Prequels present a unique challenge in terms of writing. Generally speaking, we know how a prequel is going to end. So it falls on the writer to put together a strong story in order for us to get invested in the events. See the recent _Planet of the Apes_ films and _Fate/Zero_ for good examples. However _Enterprise_ could circumvent the problem prequels face, hardcore continuity. Yes the show was still bound by certain events and tech, but overall they had a very interesting opportunity to look at the early days of Starfleet. Particularly the logistics of setting up such an organization. Thus one of my first ideas was to have a Starfleet bogged down in internal politics. We can see the potential of such an organization but it is still trapped by the lesser parts of our nature.

Next are the characters. Archer in the show is...meh if we are being _really_ nice about it. One the problems in my opinion is that when Rick and Brannon sat down to write the character they seemed to be trying to pick between Picard and Kirk, and ended up somewhere in between on a conceptual level and suck at both on a practical level. So when it came time to revise Archer, I decided to move him into a position similar to Cisco at the start of DS9. I think this allows for a more interesting chance at character development.

Then there is Tucker. They came so close to greatness but left me angry. My changes for him will be revealed with time.

One thing I did like about _Enterprise_ is the idea of a temporal cold war. However considering that the arc went no where and I don't care much for time travel anyway, I'm just going to pass over it and work with a easy to manage arc.


	2. First Star on the Right… (Part 1) II

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 1: First Star on the Right… Part 1_

Act II

 _Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, 14 March 2151: The stress is piling on now. The admiralty is only a day away from announcing their plans. I've picked out most of the enlisted crew, but haven't picked out a few key officers, namely a communications officer and a science officer._

 _Despite their claim of allowing me free reign over picking my crew, they have outright rejected my choices for science officer. Even Trip has expressed his concern about the matter._

 _The only ray of sunshine lately has been the finding of the one person qualified to be the communications officer on this monumental mission. It's taken Trip and I up until now to track her down. I have my doubts but hopefully she'll be up for it._

The sun pleasantly shone on a small village in Brazil. It was situated near the edge of a vast stretch of rainforest. The only notable industry was a boat rental station, a few bait shops, and souvenir kiosks. Some children were playing football in the street. Their mothers were watching from a nearby café.

A foreign woman in a light spring dress stepped out of a hut and walked down the street. Her long dark hair was tied in high bun. She avoided the children's game as best she could.

The children stopped their game after she past and started to follow her to a make shift school. The woman began a lesson on English. A loud rumble echoed in the distance.

A Starfleet shuttle descended from the clouds. It landed outside the village. All the residents gathered around the craft. A man in a Starfleet uniform stepped out. He was a captain. His eyes locked onto the foreign woman. "Hoshi!" he shouted. He walked up to the woman.

"Captain Archer," Hoshi greeted. She seemed baffled by the captain's presence. They shook hands. "Um, what are you doing here?"

Archer looked around. "Do you have a private place we can speak?" he asked. Hoshi nodded and led him back to her hut. It was a sparsely decorated with a few trinkets from Japan. Archer sat on one of the pair of chairs in the room. He curled up a bit, his index finger and thumb nervously rubbing together.

Hoshi went to her fridge and dug through it. "Sorry, I don't have anything to offer you. I would have gotten something had I known you were coming," she said. Archer waved his hands in dismissal.

"Don't worry about it," he said. Hoshi took the other seat.

"So why are you here?" Hoshi asked. Archer was silent for a moment.

"I want you to think about reactivating your commission and returning to Starfleet," Archer requested.

Hoshi snorted down laugh before locking eyes with the captain. "I _finished_ my terms of service. I'm done with Starfleet," she snapped. Archer looked away in dismay. Hoshi cleared her throat. "Sorry, sir." Archer bobbed his head.

"What happened to you was a travesty and we all know it now. But—"

Hoshi's forced a raised finger to Archer's face, cutting him off. "Yes, it was. Now I'm out here by myself and doing plenty more good than Starfleet has _ever_ done," she bitterly muttered.

Archer placed a hand on her knee. "Come on, Hoshi, anyone can teach a class."

"Are you say it is below me to be giving those kids an education?"

"Not at all. There is no one more qualified than you, I'd bet. What I _am_ saying is that very, very few people can do what you are capable of. If you want to make a difference, a real difference, for humanity you'd return to Starfleet," he pleaded. Hoshi looked away, staring at a heavy trunk in the corner of the room. She returned her attention back to Archer, quickly standing up. Her small frame tried to appear intimidating before the far larger man.

"We both know Starfleet doesn't make a difference. They muddle around here on Earth and spout pretty rhetoric about the virtues of humanity all while spending every other day placating the damn Vulcans. Screw that. I'd rather be out here working under my own terms than go back there," she spat.

"I understand that Starfleet is a little…disillusioning at the moment, especially after what happened to you. I need—I mean it needs officers like you to make a difference," Archer continued. He defensively raised his hands.

The woman looked deep into Archer's eyes. "Why are you really here, captain?" she asked. She curiously placed her barely clenched fist into her other hand.

Archer shifted a bit in his chair. "It's just…I can't say anything else right now other than you should keep your eyes on the news tomorrow at about eleven," he said. A silence fell over them. The captain took a few nervous glances around. Hoshi sighed.

"Fine, I'll think about it," she finally said.

The captain smiled and stood up. "Thank you, Hoshi. My office number is still the same…and if anyone asks, I was only catching up with a friend. Understand?" he quietly added before walking out the door.

That comment caused Hoshi's brow to rise in curiosity. "Yes sir," she said. Archer left Hoshi alone. She went back to her teaching a few minutes after the shuttle left.

Her heart wasn't in it. No matter how enthusiastically she tried to teach, the lesson felt hollow. After class she went to the local bar. The bartender waved as she entered. He passed her a short, amber colored beer. Hoshi gave a small toast to the bartender, downing it in a second.

The bartender drew up another beer and sent it down to Hoshi. Pretty soon a crowd had gathered in the bar. Singing, gaming, and general merry making filled the dive as the sun set. All the while Hoshi sat alone at the bar, her glasses slowly getting shorter and piling higher. She casually brushed off the various drunks that made a pass at her.

The young woman was still standing by last call. She walked with only the slightest gait out to the street. Her eyes looked up in awe at the stars. It took her a minute to lightly stumble home.

Dawns early morning tickled her awake. Her eyes creaked open, breaking a thick seal of crust. She eventually got up a glass of water and drank it.

She went to her shower unit, stripped, and took a long, cold shower. After she was done in the shower, she turned on her small television and went to the news before gathering what she planned on wearing for the day. The station was focused on a press conference about to be held in San Francisco. Admiral Forrest was standing at a podium adorned with the sigil of Starfleet. Behind him were Captain Archer and a couple of other officers. They were all in full dress uniform, looking rather striking against the line of flags.

Hoshi cocked her head to the side for a moment. She started to get dressed. "Today, I have the pleasure of announcing Starfleet's plan to launch NX-01 Spacecraft, _Enterprise_ , in one month's time. I know it's earlier than we planned, but we feel that we are ready," the admiral announced. "Now I turn over to the leader of this historic mission, Captain Johnathan Archer."

The woman raced to put on her underwear. She sat on the edge of her bed as Archer stepped up. "Thank you, admiral," he said. His eyes scanned the crowd before him.

"Humanity has come a long way over the past one hundred years. We've stumbled. We've crawled. Even within the past decade we've had our struggles, especially with ourselves. But today marks a new beginning for Starfleet and humanity as a whole. _Enterprise_ 's mission will take us farther than ever before. We will encounter things that no other being has ever witnessed, we will undoubtedly come face to face with many dangerous situations, and we will do our best to serve the people here on Earth and in the Colonies. Therefor her crew must consist of the best Starfleet has to offer. We will be the face of humanity for the galaxy to see, to know that we have risen to the occasion. I am humbled by the opportunity to command this crew and _Enterprise_ 's mission: to boldly go where no one has gone before," Archer declared to a thunderous applause. Hoshi straightened up. Her heart pounded for a moment. Forrest took the podium back.

"Training operations will begin tomorrow. Anyone—"

Hoshi turned off the television and finished getting dressed. Her thoughts went back to Archer's conversation the previous day. She sat down at her desk. Her fingers rhythmically tapped together for a few moments. She stood up and left her hut and took a walk around the village.

Most everyone smiled as she passed by. She visited the small market. Fresh fruits and vegetables were joined by a variety of meat, from beef to capybara. Hoshi looked over the produce with faint interest. Her eyes slipped up to the sky at every opportunity.

She stopped at the edge of the rainforest. The sounds of the wild filtered through the trees. It called to the woman for a long time. She finally snapped out of it and went home. She sat at her desk, with her head in her hands. "Damn it, Archer," she mumbled. She pulled out her communicator. It took her a moment to select a number. She hit the button. The call went out. Her gaze went over to the trunk in the corner.

"Hello sweetie," her father greeted.

"Hey dad, is it too early?" Hoshi asked.

"It's never too early to get a call from your favorite daughter," her father said in a bout of confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothings wrong. I wanted to know how you're holding up," Hoshi said. She stood up and walked over to the trunk.

"I'm good, but I have the feeling that this conversation should be going the other way around," Mr. Sato countered.

Hoshi paused, holding the communicator to the side. She opened the trunk with her free hand. "I know," she said. She pulled out a picture off of a pair of drum sticks. It was a photo of a slightly younger Hoshi in a cadet uniform with her right arm draped around another young woman. Hoshi's companion had deep crimson hair and soft green eyes. The two were giving the most carefree smile. Another picture rested on the drum sticks, one of Hoshi in her proper Starfleet uniform shaking hands with Captain Archer.

"Hoshi be honest with me for once, what's wrong?"

"Really, it's nothing. I just wanted to say I love you."

"I love you too."

"I know dad. I'll send flowers for mom. See you...later," she said. She hung up the communicator. She set the picture on her bed and returned to the trunk. She pulled out a Starfleet uniform.

"Damn it, Archer."

The next morning, a shuttle landed outside a recently built camp not far from the city of Los Angeles. Hoshi disembarked, dressed in her freshly pressed blue striped uniform. The single pip on her chest sparkled a bit in the morning light. A large duffle bag was slung on her back and her trunk in hand.

The departing shuttle sent her ponytail into a fluttered. The encampment was pretty small, only big enough to house around one hundred people.

There was a group of Starfleet personnel running laps around the perimeter. Hoshi walked up to the front gate. A pair of security officers approached her. "What are you doing here?" one of the guards asked.

Hoshi noticed someone else approaching from behind. She went to attention and saluted. "Sir, Ensign Hoshi Sato reporting for duty, sir," she declared. A guard checked a tablet clipped to their belt.

"You aren't on the list, ensign. I'm—"

"It's all right, lieutenant. I'll handle this," Captain Archer said as he walked up to them.

"Sir," the lieutenant said. Archer returned Hoshi salute. The two passed the gates.

"I'm glad you came back," he said. "Starfleet will no doubt benefit from your skill and expertise."

Hoshi stopped. Archer quickly turned around to face. "This isn't about Starfleet. I'm doing this because you asked and I owe you one," Hoshi coldly stated. She forcefully poked the captain's chest with every other syllable. Archer only looked confused.

"I never asked you to do anything," Archer innocently said. He returned to walking down the path.

They entered the captain's office near the center of camp after a silent minute. The captain sat down and booted up his computer. "Alright Ensign Sato," Archer said as he brought up a personnel file. He breezily typed on his keyboard. "Welcome back to Starfleet."

Hoshi frowned a bit. Archer rolled his eyes. "Alright, you are now officially the first communications officer of the NX-01. Congratulations," he said. He printed out a sheet of paper and handed it to her. "Your orders and schedule, ensign."

The woman took the paper, stood up, and saluted. "Dismissed, ensign," Archer said. Hoshi left the office. She glanced at her orders and went to the small structure that was assigned to her. Her neighbor exited just as she made it to her front door.

He was a man of average height, his dark curly hair cut short. His uniform had a yellow stripe and a single pip, meaning he too was an ensign. The new officer quickly attempted to help Hoshi with her bags. He grabbed hold of her trunk.

"Thank you," Hoshi said. She opened the door. They entered the small apartment space. The other ensign set the trunk on the bed.

"You're welcome, I'm Travis Mayweather, helmsman," he introduced himself after a deep breath. He offered his hand to Hoshi. The woman scrutinized Mayweather for a moment.

"You're a spacer," Hoshi stated as she took his hand.

Mayweather did a double take. "How did you know?" he asked.

"It's the way you carrier yourself like you are ten pounds heavier than you really are," Hoshi answered. "So you are either a spacer whose not used to living in regular planetary gravity, or you are an Earther with serious self esteem issues. I'm going the optimistic route and say the former rather than the later."

Mayweather blinked a couple of times. "You got that with just one quick examination?" he asked. "Miss..."

Hoshi crossed her arms and gave her fellow ensign a faux serious smirk of smugness "Sato; and it's what I do."

"Well then, Ms. Sato, what's your station," he asked. Hoshi kept her pose.

"Communications."

Mayweather smiled a warm smile that made Hoshi loosen her stance and take a slight step back. "It will be a pleasure to serve with you," Mayweather said.

Around noon that day the crew was gathered at the mess hall. Hoshi and Travis were sitting together. Their meal consisted of an unidentifiable slab meat, boxed potatoes, and mush steamed vegetables. The ensigns picked at the food. An almost tangible wave of dread filled the space between the two. There eyes spoke of the grim culinary dread they were in for.

Commander Tucker sat down with the officers. He clasped his hands together, pointing them at Hoshi. A smirk had crawled onto his face.

"Hello Trip," Hoshi dryly greeted. Mayweather turned to Hoshi with a look of disbelief on his face.

"You're back with Starfleet, Sato. It's Commander Tucker again," the superior officer pointed out.

"Please don't remind me," she mumbled.

"Don't remind me?" Tucker lightly mocked.

"Don't remind me, sir," Hoshi growled. Tucker nodded in approval.

"All things aside, it's good to see you back in the uniform," he said. He stood back up, shot the pair a mock two finger salute and then went over to where Captain Archer was eating with a male Denobulan.

Travis remained gobsmacked. Hoshi merely started eating. She mumbled something about a lack of booze between bites.

A lieutenant was passing by, looking at a sheet of paper. He glanced at the two then back to his paper. His brow rose a moment but settled down. The lieutenant slid the paper into his pocket then sat down.

"Ensign Sato, Mayweather he said. He had a noticeable English accent. "I'm Lieutenant Reed, Tactical Officer. Given your positions, I get the feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

Reed had a prim hair cut. Not a strand out of place. His smile was extremely professional.

"Good to meet you Lieutenant," Mayweather greeted. "And if I may say sir, I hope you have a boring time on this adventure...no offence, sir."

Reed laughed. "No, no. I understand the sentiment Mr. Mayweather. Hopefully it will be Hoshi that has the most work among the three of us."

Hoshi politely smiled. "Don't worry about me, I'm the best damn linguist on Starfleet's rolodex."

"Those are big words for such a young officer," Reed teased.

Mayweather cleared his throat. "So when do we start loading the ship?" he asked. His eyes nervously shifted between the two.

Reed shrugged. "Most of the bigger stuffs been brought up already. All that's left is the smaller stuff, and the science guys want to use the teleporter we installed for that," he said. Hoshi examined a bite of food she had collected on her fork.

"Oh goody," she mutter. "Nothing like questionable alien atomizer technology built right in the middle of humanity's most advanced ship to make you feel just peachy about how this mission is gonna go."

Captain Archer was trying his best to enjoy the food provided. Tucker had just joined him after a brief talk with Hoshi. The engineer looked at his captain. "I have to say, boss-man, I'm impressed you were able to get Sato to come back," he said.

Archer shook his head. "Trust me Trip, I had my doubts. But she pulled through. I think this will be good for her, get her doing what she loves again," he said.

"I still advise against taking Ensign Sato with us, Captain. I lack the necessary human psychiatric training to handle things if something triggers her," the Denobulan noted as he finished his meal.

"Your advise has been noted, doctor. That's why we're bringing along a qualified nurse," Archer said.

"Still captain, don't go about dying out there. I reckon at that point Sato would take a shot at the Warp Core just to end it all," Tucker quipped. He took a bite of his meal.

"That's out of line, Commander," Archer scolded his friend.

"Sorry sir," Tucker apologized. "I just meant that you're very important to Sato and..."

"I know Trip. But you need to think before you speak now."

 _To Be Continued..._

* * *

A/N: One of the biggest problems with _Enterprise_ is the fact that the secondary characters Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather were basically screwed over. Hoshi couldn't catch a break and Travis was lucky to get a line in. Which is a shame because Trek is usually very good with making secondary characters interesting or at the very least memorable in someway.

My plan for them is to add another axis of mortality to the series. If you are at all familiar with Trek, you are probably aware that morality is handled in terms of logic and emotion. It is usually up to the captain to reach a balance. I will be using this method of course. What Sato and Mayweather will do is discuss the nature of Starfleet and its actions. The show proper would have benefited greatly from a deeper discussion of Starfleet's role in the galaxy. Think of them as something along the lines of the Renegade vs Paragon dynamic a la _Mass Effect_.

I'm not sure how the general audience reacted to the transporter-phobia of the show, but I actually agree with being scared of using it. Though my fear is more existential. I plan to use this a bit more than in the show.


	3. First Star on the Right… (Part 1) III

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 1: First Star on the Right… Part 1_

Act III

 _Captain's Log 16 April 2151: This is my first official entry as captain of Enterprise. The admiralty has finally made it clear why they have refused my selection for science officer; mainly they had one especially picked out for me ahead of time. To no one's shock it is nakedly political move, but I don't have time to care about such things. I do have a feeling my chief engineer will not stand for this appointment._

A shuttlepod punched through Earth's lower atmosphere and began climbing into orbit. A space dock was a few kilometers in front of it. The pilot deftly flew towards the dock.

Archer and Tucker were in the back with a beagle lying next to Archer, the captain keeping an arm gently wrapped around the dog. Each man had a large duffle bag and a trunk. Tucker was scowling in the direction farthest from Archer's own gaze. His arms were crossed over his chest.

A bit of turbulence rocked the shuttle. It finally broke into low orbit and began to approach the space dock a few hundred kilometers away, orbiting above South America.

"Trip, you can't be angry the whole time," Archer insisted in an attempt to break the silence that had held them for most of the trip.

"I can damn well try," Trip retorted.

"You're being childish."

"Maybe, but one of us has to be angry."

Archer rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I'm not exactly thrilled at the prospects either, but we have to accommodate the admirals' orders," he said.

The shuttle attached to an airlock. Tucker stood up. Archer gave a pat to his dog, which dutifully jumped down to the floor to allow Archer to stand. A green light flashed. The side door hissed open. Tucker grabbed his things and walked up to the door.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was standing at attention with his hair as precisely cut as ever. He was joined by another four enlisted personnel. Archer's dog immediately went to the men and began sniffing their boots. "At ease," Archer said as stepped on board. They all relaxed their posture.

"Welcome to Enterprise, captain," Lieutenant Reed greeted. A couple of the enlisted men stepped forward, avoiding and grab the officers' gear. They began to take it to the officers' quarters.

"Thank you, Lt. Reed," Archer said. Malcom Reed smirked a bit. Archer looked around the grey steel halls of his ship. "How are things up here?"

"Fine, sir. The last of the survey probes arrived this morning. So now we're all just eager to depart."

"So am I, lieutenant," Archer said. "You are dismissed, gentlemen."

Reed nodded and the red stripes departed to the crew quarters. Archer and Tucker went the other way towards the bridge. Tucker kept close behind the captain. "Come on Porthos," Archer said. The beagle perked up and followed the men.

"So is this appointment going to be a problem?" Archer asked, resuming there earlier conversation.

"I can't say if it'll be a problem, sir. I'm sorry but I don't trust a person who can't appreciate a finely prepared sirloin," Tucker admitted as they stepped onto the bridge.

"Many humans lead fine lives as vegetarians," a woman said in a dry monotone. The comment belonged to a Vulcan standing at the command table that occupied the center of the bridge. Her dark hair was cut in the way most Vulcans did, short and tight. She was wearing the loose fitting uniform issued by the Vulcan High Command. Tucker glared at the woman a second then mumbled something about damn hippies before going to his post on the bridge.

Archer took a quick survey of the bridge. On the wall directly in front of him was the main View Screen which was displaying a familiar patch of stars. The helm's console and the Tactical Station were situated in front of the screen. The Engineering station was behind Tactical with Communications across the bridge from Engineering.

The Vulcan woman was standing at the science station that was built into the Command Table. The station was on the same side as Helm and Communications. The captain's station was directly across from the science station. Two smaller, generic stations were built into the other sides.

On the wall behind the captain's post was an intricate layout of the ship, showing power distribution, hull status, oxygen levels, and a myriad of other technical stats. The wall behind the Science station was a crew roster. On duty crew members names were colored based on their job while off duty members were grayed out. Security and Engineering personnel like Reed and Tucker's names were in red and so forth. Above the names was a clock and a marked time for the next duty shift.

It currently charted the local cluster of stars. To the left of it was the communications station where Ensign Sato was meticulously going over her equipment. Porthos trotted over to Sato and began begging for her attention, which she obliged without breaking her rhythm. Tucker's engineering station was situated across from her. He busied himself by going over readouts, briefly sending a suspicious glare to the Vulcan.

Between the Tactical and Engineering Stations was a display that showed the status of the various ship systems. A couple of technicians were relaying orders and stats to other crewmen over their communicators.

The Vulcan walked up to the captain. "I will work to keep my presence from becoming bothersome, captain," she said. Archer walked up to his post and began messing with the controls, remapping and rearranging things to his liking.

"You are a part of my crew Sub-commander T'Pol," he said as worked, "your presence is not bothersome, and will not become an issue. Isn't that right Commander Tucker?"

"Yes sir," Trip responded and was not exactly succeeding at choking down sarcasm.

"Thank you, captain. My skills are at your disposal," T'Pol said.

Porthos finished basking in Sato's odd attention and went over to T'Pol. He sniffed her boots and rubbed her shin in attempt to gain some attention. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at the dog's behavior.

"Hey boy, come here," Tucker whistled for Porthos. The dog quickly turned around and rushed to Tucker. Trip scratched right under his ears. He tenderly patted the dog's belly, sending the canine back to Archer.

Tucker stood up and walked over to Archer too. He braced himself against the table. "We are green to go, Captain. Just give the word," he reported.

Archer looked at the Command Table. He saw the Earth dominating the center of the map. A couple dozens of Starfleet insignias dotted the vast representation. The captain took in a deep breath, taking a look at Porthos then T'Pol.

"What's the word, Hoshi?" Archer asked.

The ensign brought up a report. "We are clear to go, captain," she stated. Archer hit a button and opened the public address system.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, crew of the NX-01; this is the captain," Archer began. "One hundred years ago, humanity was on the brink. Hundreds of millions of our brothers and sisters were annihilated in nuclear fire. Those that survived were left clinging to edge of a dying world. But one man changed that with a single, almost impossible dream. He rose from the ashes, and brought us all back into the light. Today we follow in his footsteps and the footsteps of all explorers. All hands to stations, prepare to depart dry dock."

The men and women all over the ship finished their tasks and went to their stations. An excited static began to build all over the ship. Ensign Mayweather and Lt. Reed went to the bridge along with a couple of command crewmembers. Engineers went to a special overview of the Warp Core. The machine began to warm up within an ice cold void. A sign on the main door into the Core lit up with the international symbol for radioactivity.

Mayweather took the helm with Reed occupying the Tactical Station. Archer, Tucker, and T'Pol walked up to the View Screen.

"Mr. Mayweather, take her out," Archer ordered.

"Yes sir," the ensign said. He began to disengage the locks. The series of lights representing the lock status quickly turned green. Mayweather popped his fingers then took control. His gentle touch eased Enterprise out of dry dock. A massive grin came onto his face.

Tucker began to lightly chew on his lips. Hoshi started rubbing the area between her left hand's pinky and ring finger. T'Pol remained stoic, her hands clasped behind her back.

"What's our destination, sir?" Mayweather asked. Archer stroked his chin.

"Epsilon-2458 at Warp Five, Mr. Mayweather. That sounds like a good start," he finally said. Mayweather started to punch in the coordinates for the destination. Once that task was over, he maneuvered the ship out to an empty section of space.

"Coordinates are in and we are in the clear. Waiting on your word, captain," Mayweather reported. Archer turned to Tucker. The chief gave a slight nod.

"Punch it, Mr. Mayweather," Archer ordered. Enterprise's Warp core silently rumbled, glowing bright red. Space began to bend around the ship. Enterprise shot off across the stars. Trip pumped his fist at the sight of the streaking stars.

A sense of normalcy fell over the crew after the wonder of the Warp Five past. The only person still enthralled by the experience was Travis Mayweather. Hoshi was the only other officer left on the bridge, their superiors having retired to Archer's quarters for dinner. Reed had gone to inspect the weapons kept in the storage bay. She put on her ear piece and walked up to the helm.

Hoshi leaned her back on a bulkhead next to Travis' console. "This must be the greatest day of your life, aye space cowboy?" she jested.

"It's up there. Imagine once Warp Five Drives have a general release. Freighters will shred years off arrival times. Better yet, Starfleet will also be able to effectively patrol the expanse," Travis gleefully commented.

"I'm sure it will be so much better," Hoshi sarcastically retorted.

Travis switched on the autopilot, his brow slightly furled. He swiveled his chair to look at Hoshi. "What's your deal exactly, Ms. Sato?" he asked. Hoshi cocked an eyebrow.

"My deal?"

"Ever since training you've been pretty blatant about your distaste for Starfleet, so why are here exactly?"

Hoshi turned around to look at the captain's chair for a second. "The good captain asked me to come," she bluntly answered.

"Is that all? Captain Archer just asked you and you dropped everything to rejoin an organization you didn't like?"

Hoshi laughed a bit. "Don't worry, Mayweather; my personal feelings towards Starfleet won't compromise my performance. I am committed to this crew and this mission," she stated. The woman lifted herself off the bulkhead. She idly scratched the area between her left pinky and ring finger with her right pinky finger a bit.

Travis nodded he returned to the helm. "What's your take on our Vulcan crew-mate then?" he asked. Hoshi stopped scratching. Her thoughts wandered a bit until Travis attempted to make awkward eye contact with her.

"She's…I suspect she's here as reparation for Starfleet going behind their back," she theorized before resuming her scratching.

"But do you trust her?"

"She's a Vulcan, Mayweather."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Vulcan's don't lie, right? We can trust what she says with her mouth. It's her actions we should watch."

"Paranoid, Ms. Sato?"

"Pragmatic, Mayweather."

The starboard side of the ship was the officers quarters. A crewman was rolling trolley with three plates of food and some silverware down to the first door marked "Capt. Archer." The man himself was staring hard at a small shelf of wine that was installed into his small dining area when the crewman entered. The captain finally started to run a finger over the labels. His eyes closed and he twirled his wrists, stopping it and raised a finger. He grabbed the bottle it was pointed at. He read the label and shrugged.

Trip was lazily chewing on a bread stick as the crewman served the main course. The crewman stood at attention over to the side. Archer sat down and dismissed the crewman. The captain uncorked the bottle and reached over to pour some wine into T'Pol's glass. The Vulcan politely raised her hand in refusal; instead she poured herself water from the pitcher in the center of the table.

Archer nodded and gave some to Trip instead. He then poured his glass and lifted it. "To exploration," he toasted. Tucker raised his glass. T'Pol mimicked Tucker with a large degree of uncertainty.

The trio began to eat. "I hope the soy steak is to your liking. I understand that certain human foods can be disagreeable with Vulcans," Archer said. He began to cut into his own beef steak. He slipped a slice to Porthos, who was lying patiently at his feet.

"I've investigated human dietary staples and aware of what I should avoid," T'Pol said. She picked up a bread stick with her fork and cut off piece of it. Tucker discretely sent her a suspicious glance.

"What do you think of _Enterprise_ so far?" Archer asked. He dipped a chunk of steak in to some sauce before eating it.

T'Pol pondered the question a moment. "It is a very efficient design, sir," she finally answered.

"High praise from a Vulcan," Tucker commented between bites. T'Pol turned to him.

"Not praise commander, merely an observation of your engineers' priorities," she clarified. Tucker's brow furled a bit. Archer cleared his throat a bit.

"I must say, T'Pol, I am...well amazed at your mastery of English, as I understand this assignment was as much a surprise for you as it was for us," he said in an attempt to steer the conversation into safer waters.

T'Pol returned to her meal. "I was supposed to be assigned to the Vulcan Advisory Committee at Starfleet Academy when they announced _Enterprise_ 's mission. Instead I was assigned to this ship," she said.

"The Vulcan Advisory Committee, that's a pretty impressive posting for someone so young," Archer complemented. T'Pol paused her cutting.

"Yes sir, quite impressive."

A silent ceasefire fell over the table. Archer continued to eat. "Captain, why did you pick Epsilon-2458 as our first destination?" T'Pol asked.

"It's right on a Money Spot," Tucker said.

"Money Spot?" T'Pol repeated the name.

"It's what we call a point where several freighter routes intersect," Archer explained.

"Yep, we're going to drop our first subspace comm amplifier out there," Tucker said.

"A logical placement," T'Pol said. Tucker shrugged in minor agreement.

Across the ship and a deck lower, Lt. Reed was taking inventory. He was counting the containers of Phase pistol cells. A string of notes born from a guitar gently rose from the depths. Reed's eyebrow rose.

He walked down to the source. The notes began to form a blues tinged harmony. Reed found the source coming from a woman strumming a fine acoustic guitar sitting on a heavy crate. Her curly black hair was cut short. Deft fingers plucked the strings of instrument to form a classic song.

The woman wore a uniform with a blue stripe and a single pip. She looked up at the lieutenant and ceased playing. "That was really good," Reed said. "You didn't need to stop."

She set the guitar down. "Sorry sir."

"What was that song?" Reed asked. The woman shrugged.

"My granddad used to play it when I was a girl in Cape Town. It's about a gambling house in New Orleans if I remember the words correctly," the ensign said.

"Well it was very good. Why are you playing here?" Reed asked.

"Doctor Phlox said no practicing in sickbay and my room doesn't have the right acoustics," she said. She jumped off crate. "I'm Ensign Crane, _Enterprise_ 's Chief...and only Nurse."

"Lt. Reed, Tactical Officer."

"I know who you are sir. I saw you running your men every morning at camp," Crane said.

"Well I have to keep them in shape," Reed said.

"Don't work them too hard, lieutenant. I hate to see them in sickbay all the time. Good night sir," the ensign said. She nodded her head and left the cargo bay. Reed resisted the urge to turn and watch her go. He shoved the thought aside and went back to his work.

Dinner had been over for a while in the captain's quarters. Archer was unpacking his trunk. Porthos was sleeping at the foot of the captain's bed. The top item in the trunk was the pair of burnt gloves from the hanger in San Francisco. He picked them up and set them on his desk.

The captain continued to take out his personal belongings. He hung up several other uniforms in his closet and threw the one he had worn earlier in a hamper. Then he placed a collection of medals on the wall by the small viewport. Finally he took out one of the last object in the box. He unfurled an incomplete, hand drawn star map of the cluster around the Sol System.

Archer proudly placed the art on his wall across from the dinner table. He pulled out a set of paints and brought up a chair. The hours whiled away as the captain worked on his project.

Over the next few days the pattern repeated. Nothing during the day, awkward dinner at night, a little painting afterwards, and then sleep until 0700 hours.

On the fourth the night of the journey, his communicator chirped just before he had laid down for bed. The captain picked up the device. "Archer here," he answered.

"It's Hoshi. You need to get down here sir. We picked up something you're gonna want look at it," the communication officer reported.

"Alright, I'll be down in a minute," he said. He closed the communicator and stood up. He slipped on his uniform.

Archer sauntered down the hall. A few crewmen saluted him as he past. The captain stepped onto the bridge. Sato and T'Pol were at the communication station. The Vulcan was looking over a tablet.

Hoshi was listening to something on her headset. She put it down and turned to the captain.

"So what's happening?" Archer asked. T'Pol gave him her tablet. He looked over the computer.

"Where did this come from?" he demanded.

"Our destination," Hoshi answered. Archer's brow furled a bit. He lightly bit his lip.

"Right. Get Commander Tucker up here, we have work to do," he finally ordered. Hoshi nodded and made the call.

Trip joined the bridge crew a few minutes later, taking the post to Archer's left, across from a frazzled Hoshi. The engineer leaned forward on the command table to look at a basic model of Epsilon-2458's solar system. The five planets gracefully orbited a center that was about the size of an basket ball. A few moons were also put in place around the planets as well.

"What's up?" Tucker asked with a smidgen of passing interest.

T'Pol looked over to Archer. He nodded. "Forty minutes ago, we received a subspace dispatch from an Andorian freighter which is currently in orbit around the third planet Epsilon-2458," she started. An Andorian insignia appeared around the third planet. "It claims that its engines were damaged by a Vulcan patrol craft that thought they were privateers."

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Why would a Vulcan ship attack any Andoria ship? It doesn't seem logical given the current climate around the border," he commented.

"There is no evidence of their claim as of yet, commander. Now Captain Archer has decided that he and a team of engineers headed by you will shuttle over to the ship to assist the Andorians. I will remain on Enterprise to oversee the deployment of the subspace amplifier," she said.

"Is that such a good idea? What if they're lying or its a trap or something," Tucker speculated on the possibilities.

"It might well be, Trip. But right now we don't know. We are humanity's representatives and it would look bad on us that we simply ignored the first distress call we received," Archer countered.

"This isn't about being a representative. This is about you walking into a possibly dangerous situation totaly because you think you've got something to prove. News flash captain: you don't have anything to prove. This crew will follow you to the very end," Tucker said in a huff. He took a semi-serious glance at Hoshi, who just rolled her eyes.

The captain started to rub his brow. "Alright Trip. I'll have Reed on standby with a boarding party if things get messy," he offered.

Trip resisted a sigh. "I guess that's all I can ask for at this point."

Archer nodded in approval. He leaned closer to his chief engineer. "But while you're there, I want you to inspect every square centimeter of that drive personally. You will compile an analysis for Starfeet. The results of your findings may very well determine the fate of the quadrant for the next few years," Archer half lamented, half prophesied.

"No pressure then," Trip declared.

The first rotation had taken their places a few hours before it was time to exit Warp. Archer, T'Pol, and Trip had gathered around the command table. Enterprise was buffeted a bit as it returned to impulse.

Archer hit the intercom. "All hands, yellow alert. Yellow alert," he said. A klaxon sounded once and a yellow light started blinking above the door to the rest of the ship.

 _To be Continued..._

* * *

A/N: I think that we can all agree that the Vulcans in _Enterprise_ were handled poorly. I do like the idea of the humans having some resentment towards the Vulcans. However the Vulcans look like jerks for no reason at all, just so humans look better. I know Trek can be pretty anthropocentric, whether they realize it or not, but this was a new low.

Then there is T'Pol. Oh unmerciful god, there is T'Pol. I don't know who to blame on this one. For most of the other characters, I give a pass to the actors because they were basically working with nothing. They mostly pulled through with what they got. But with Jolene Blalock, I'm not sure. Even with the mostly bad scripts I'm not sure if she was a miscast, poorly directed, or she really isn't that good of an actress. Either way someone didn't realize that emotionless doesn't mean personality-less; and what little they had made her out to be an ass.


	4. First Star on the Right… (Part 1) IV

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 1: First Star on the Right… Part 1_

Act IV

 _First Officer's Log 21 April 2151: I've been assigned by Captain Archer to head up a repair team to fix up an Andorian freighter that claims to have been attacked by a Vulcan ship. The captain is doubtful of their claim, and I agree with him. As much as can sympathize with the Andorians' distaste for the Vulcans, this situation is too odd to be above suspicion._

A group of five men and women had gathered outside the shuttlepod doors. They were dressed in grey Hostile Environment Suits, with an appropriate red trim. They all had their helmets at the side, already connected to a small air tank. Tucker, in his own HES, was inspecting their equipment. Nearby was a rack of a couple dozen air tanks on a dolly.

Captain Archer was there too, along with Ensign Sato. The pair dressed in their regular uniforms. Hoshi was reading off of her data pad. She was whispering to herself in what must have been Andorian. Occasionally she would do some weird gesturing with her hand.

Tucker finished his inspection and gave the Captain a thumbs-up. Archer took position in front of the group. He clasped his hands behind his back. "Alright everyone, we don't know what to expect from the Andorians. They may be gracious; they may be asses. Either way you are now ambassadors for all humanity. I expect each of you to live up to that distinction," the captain said.

"Sir, yes, sir," the crew responded. Archer nodded in approval then motioned for Tucker to come up. Tucker took a position to the captain's right.

"I don't have specifics other than we are dealing with a standard Andorian Warp 3.6 Drive. It should be a simple task. Hopefully we'll be in and out. But be ready for the long haul if it comes to that. And a reminder: don't slack off on your safety checks," Tucker said. A gold stripe walked through the bunch to the door to the Shuttlepod as it opened.

The doors parted and the leaving crew went inside. The pilot took the pod out of the dock. Tucker took a peek out of the viewport as they approached the damaged ship. In the distance was a lumpy, barren rock of a planet. Only a few exposed iron veins on the surface gave the planet any character.

As the shuttle got closer, a black speck began to grow larger and larger. It quickly became a white and blue craft. It was both elegant and practical in design, despite having several holes punched into the hull. It was also lacking in any excess bulk.

The shuttle began to slow down as it approached. The craft pulled alongside the Andorian ship. There was a hiss as the umbilical bridge connected them. Tucker felt his heart beat pick up as the doors slid open. Archer led them out with Sato in tow.

Two Andorian males were waiting for them on the other side of the air lock. They stood a few centimeters taller than the captain, plus a few more with the antenna on their heads. Their pale blue skin and crisp white hair made the pop out against the light cream material that the interior of the ship was made of.

Archer stopped in front of them and greeted the aliens in English. Hoshi quickly translated. One of the blue aliens looked surprised at Sato's skill. The communications officer nodded after the Andorians said their piece.

Sato looked at the repair crew. "This is the ship's first officer and the chief engineer; they'll take you down to engineering to get started," she said. The Andorians turned and filed out. The humans followed suit, with Sato and Archer at the front of the column.

The ship was cramped. Several wounded Andorians were lined up outside the sick bay. Most of the injuries were burns. The humans treaded carefully around the wounded.

"Hoshi, ask them if they need any medical assistance," Archer requested of Sato. The ensign asked the Andorians.

"No sir. They say that they have it all under control," Sato reported.

The group finally reached the engineering section. Tucker and his crew finished suiting up by putting on their helmets. The airlock to the Warp Core buzzed and the repair crew step inside and they began to repair the damaged sections of the core. Sato and Archer went up to the Engineering Overlook. They watched as Tucker and his crew got to work. The Andorian engineer joined them.

"There seems to be a lot of them for a freighter," Sato commented in a neutral tone. She was avoiding looking at the alien.

"There are a lot here, but this isn't a human freighter Hoshi. Perhaps Andorians have larger crews," Archer answered. He was able to mimic Hoshi's tone. The ensign shrugged.

Trip felt rise in temperature as he entered the chamber where the Warp Core was contained. He checked a device installed on his arm. The temperature was already reaching above nine hundred Kelvin.

The massive black engine block was dead. It was unclear at the moment if it had been taken offline by the Andorians or by battle. Trip turned on his headlight and walked over to one of the walls. There was a massive web of piping.

"Okay everyone, this ain't so bad. Looks like it must be a plasma leak. Fan out and start looking for it. If you think you found it, give me a holler so I can double check," Trip told his team. They responded in a chorus of ayes.

Over on _Enterprise_ , T'Pol was in the storage bay. Several red stripes were unboxing a probe about the size of a washing machine. The Vulcan was standing on a catwalk, her attention split between watching the crew and a data pad.

Lt. Reed came walking down the catwalk. He stopped next to T'Pol and braced himself against the railing.

"Shouldn't you be at the other shuttlepod in case the captain has need of you," T'Pol pointed out. She never broke from her pattern. Reed shook his head.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see the launch of humanity's first deep space probe," the man answered.

"Your interest in wishing to witness history is commendable, lieutenant. However, you are still on duty and are needed at your station," T'Pol said in her typical stoic manner.

Reed cocked his back. "Come on, sub-commander. We're in the middle of nowhere…"

T'Pol's communicator went off. She answered it. "T'Pol here."

"Sub-commander, I'm picking up a warp signature coming in fast. You'll want to get up here ASAP," Ensign Mayweather reported. The Vulcan shot a strange look at Reed.

"Contact the captain at once. I'm on my way to the bridge," she ordered.

Reed pulled out his own communicator. "This is Reed, boarding party go to standby," he said as he rushed out of the room.

T'Pol ran up to the bridge, joining Mayweather at the Command Table. A blinking blue arrow was pointing out of the system.

"Who do you think it is?" the ensign asked.

"This is a Money Spot, as Commander Tucker put it; I think it would be a human vessel," T'Pol suggested.

The arrow quickly turned into a blue dot as the ship entered the system. A few moments later it turned into the insignia of the Vulcan High Command. It was classified as a heavy cruiser. Mayweather looked at T'Pol to find her face almost as emotionless as ever. Her raised right eyebrow was the only sign of a reaction. The Comm Station lit up. Mayweather nervously rubbed his chin. T'Pol walked over to the Comm. She hit the answer button.

"Attention Starfleet vessel, you are interfering in a Vulcan High Command operation. Please cease and desist all your activities in this system," A Vulcan male warned.

T'Pol took a look around the bridge. She then picked up the handset. "This is Sub-commander T'Pol, acting commander of the NX-01. What operation are we interfering with?"

"The Andorian ship in this system is a privateer that we damaged after attacking a Vulcan convoy. We are here to take them into custody," the other Vulcan responded.

On board the Andorian ship, Archer and Hoshi were still waiting in the Engineering Overlook while their crewmates work on the Warp Drive. Hoshi was leaning against a bulkhead, keeping her posture loose and unthreatening; a striking contrast to the stiff and anxious pacing of her captain. Archer did have some reason for his behavior. The Andorian engineer had left in a huff after a summons from his captain.

"Relax, captain," Hoshi said in a calming voice. She started to scratch area between her left pinky and ring finger with her right pinky finger.

"There is an unknown vessel approaching us, the Andorians have scurried off to god knows where, my crew is trapped in a vacuum with an anti-matter reactor, and I'm not on the bridge of my damn ship!" Archer vented.

Hoshi stopped scratching and looked to Archer. "Maybe you could call T'Pol and have us beamed over with the transporter," she suggested. Archer stopped. He shot a venomous glare at the woman.

"This isn't the lab back on Earth, Hoshi. We don't have time to risk our lives on new tech," he spat. Hoshi just shrugged and resumed her scratching. There was a clamor of boots outside the overlook. The captain stopped his pacing. The two officers locked nervous eyes. Archer pulled out his communicator. "T'Pol, what's going on?"

T'Pol gripped the handset a little tighter. She could hear her communicator going off in the background, knowing that it was captain wanting to know what was going on. The fact was if she firmed her grip any further, the device would be crushed into a crumpled ball of plastic. "I understand sir. However the proper captain of this vessel and his first officer are on the Andorian ship," she said.

"Why?" the male Vulcan asked.

"We were under the impression that it was a damaged freighter and were going to assist. To speak plainly, we have no reason to accept your story over theirs at this time," T'Pol answered.

"They are privateers, sub-commander T'Pol. We will be taking that ship in if possible."

"I would advise against taking action while Captain Archer is on the Andorian vessel. If something were to happen to him because of you, relations with Earth might come to a head," the sub-commander warned.

"Very well sub-commander, you have two hours to get your captain back. However, if the Andorians escape I will report this to the High Command," the captain declared. The line went dead.

T'Pol dropped the handset. She marched over to the Command Table. She answered her communicator.

"T'Pol, what the hell is going on there?" Captain Archer demanded.

"A Vulcan cruiser has arrived and they claim that the Andorian ship is a privateer."

The captain sighed. "I think we may be in a little over our heads," he said.

"I agree that the situation isn't optimal. They've given you two hours to get off the ship," T'Pol said. She heard nothing in response.

"Captain Archer?" the sub-commander rose her voice a tad.

"Captain Archer!"

 _To be Continued..._

* * *

A/N: So Starfleet's first deep space mission is starting to go to hell in a hand basket. As you do.

Now that we're at the end, we can talk about the structure of the story. This will be released in sets of four chapters. Expect these to come out at a much slower pace, is what I'm saying.


	5. First Star on the Right… (Part 2) I

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 2: First Star on the Right… Part 2_

Act I

 _Captain's Log 21 April 2151: Sub-commander T'Pol reporting. We have lost contact with Captain Archer and the repair team on board an Andorian Raider. A Vulcan Heavy Cruiser has arrived and given us two hours to get him back. Time is ticking and my options are limited, but I will choose the option that will most likely return the stranded crew._

T'Pol could feel the nervousness of her bridge crew. At the moment her most senior officers were the helmsman and the tactical officer. She had confidence in their capabilities but unnerved by their inexperience. Not that she was that experienced herself.

The trio was standing around the Command Table. There was a blue print of the Andorian freighter filled the screen. Travis and Reed were in the midst of arguing an approach vector for a boarding party.

Reed was in favor of a risky infiltration near the aft, close to the engine control where the crew was most likely to be. The boarding party could then sweep the ship as a cohesive unit but consume more time.

Mayweather wanted to board near the easier access point on the midsection. He was backed up by the fact that the crew might have been moved. However the boarding party would have to break up and be more vulnerable.

Boarding wasn't the option T'Pol wanted to go with at all. But as the clock ticked, she began to believe that it was becoming the only option. All attempts to hail the Andorians had failed and the Andorians in turn hadn't made any demands. It raised the question as to what was happening on the ship.

The quickest and best answer was "nothing great." Hoshi and Archer were being held at gun point by a group of Andorians in the engineering overlook. They had been stripped of their communicators. Hoshi was standing rather relaxed compared to her tensed up captain.

"Altruism; well I suppose there are less noble causes to die for," Hoshi sarcastically mused. She started to scratch the area between her left pinky and ring finger with her right pinky finger, nervously keeping her head down.

"Is that really necessary ensign?" Archer asked. He kept his tone well under control.

He could see the woman roll her eyes. "Well option number two involves an Orion slave market. So I'd say I'm being downright optimistic, as Trip would put it," Hoshi rebuffed.

"Well option one still has you dying for Starfleet," Archer half jested.

Hoshi paused her scratching and looked up to the captain. "No I'm dying _in_ Starfleet, Captain," Hoshi insisted. She resumed her odd scratch.

"Shut up pink skins," one of the Andorian guards grunted. Hoshi's face scrunched in disgust.

"You're talking to him right?" she asked. She pointed her head at the captain.

"Come on Hoshi. We don't have a lot of room to argue here," Archer pleaded.

"I'm sorry, but I take exception to that. If he's going to use racial slurs, he should at least make them broad enough so it applies to more than a subset of the species being insulted. Imagine if Mayweather were here. The whole insult wouldn't make any sense," Hoshi stated her grievances.

"You all have pink skin to me," the guard growled in the most condescending tone he could muster.

That seemed to have caught Hoshi off guard. Her eyes blinked in a double take. "Wow, that was wrong on almost…every level," Hoshi remarked.

The door opened, forcing Hoshi to hold off her next thought. What must have been the captain entered. He was shorter than most of his compatriots, and far younger. His face was sharp and aristocratic in shape, brimming with the smarmy confidence. He wore his white hair in the Andorian equivalent of a human military style. His outfit appeared like an officer's uniform and fit like a glove. Each of his steps extruded an excess of arrogance.

Archer straightened up. "I demand to know what is going on," he said. His voice projected far more confidence then his predicament warranted.

"You are in no position to make demands Captain Archer. You and your crew here are our hostages for the time being," the far younger captain bluntly explained. His accent was smooth and practiced.

"Hostages?" Archer repeated. "Starfleet will not stand for this."

"Probably not, but they aren't a really a threat now, are they captain?" their chief captor mocked. "Your team will continue to repair my ship. Once you're done, we shall warp away and we can discuss your release."

"Discuss? Humanity has no grudge against the Andorians, and vice versa. Let us go here once we're done. I guarantee my crews cooperation in the meantime," Archer protested.

"Sorry, captain. But that isn't an option at the moment."

"Why not?"

"The situation…isn't as simple as you think," the Andorian captain said. The captain turned to leave.

"Who are you?" Archer desperately asked. His captor paused.

"A patriot Captain, a patriot," the Andorian officer said. He finally left, leaving the humans and their guards.

Hoshi rubbed her chin. "I think we've been conned, Hoshi," Archer grumbled. Hoshi held a neutral expression on her face.

Down in the freezer that was the Warp Core's main chamber, one of the technicians was working to remove a grate on the right wall. The barrier finally clicked off and fell silently to the ground. The technician pulled out a flashlight. She scanned the revealed area with the beam to check out the piping. Her lips twitched a bit as she took a step backwards. She clicked the comm button on her helmet.

"Uh commander, I have something over here," she said. She raised her hand. Trip got up from working on one of the exhaust ports near the back of the Warp Core and walked over to the woman. She pointed at a section of damaged piping, faint green light barely getting through the cracks. The commander looked over the area she indicated. His lips squirmed into a nervous frown.

"Map this out as best you can. Be careful what you touch," he ordered. The technician nodded and got to work removing another grate.

Trip went to the airlock door and hit the intercom. "What is it human?" the Andorian on the other side grunted.

"Hey, I need to speak with your captain," Trip requested.

"Why?"

"You've got what appears to be a major problem and I need to talk to someone in charge about it," Trip barked. There was a discomforting silence. The engineer felt himself chewing on his lower lip.

"This is the captain, what's wrong?" the captain asked. Trip swore he heard anxiety in the alien's voice. He cleared his throat.

Trip took a deep breath. "It looks like your plasma coolant system took some serious damage. It isn't compromised yet. But even turning on the Core might be too much for the system to handle. And after that well, you know: boom," he explained.

"Can you fix it?" the captain hurriedly asked.

"Maybe," Trip answered. "I need you to drain plasma coolant system for me."

"What?"

"Look I can't fix it if there is stuff still in there. These suits are good, but I don't want to take the risk of something going wrong."

"If we do that then we won't be able to go to Warp for hours after the core is online."

Trip put his hand behind his helmet and sighed. "I'm aware that it is inconvenient, but trust me it will seem less so after the pipe burst during a jump and you're captain of half a ship at most," he explained.

"Can you do anything for it without draining the coolant?"

"Maybe, but I can't guarantee things won't go to hell," Trip said.

"She'll hold together. Just do what you can."

The captain disappeared after those words. Trip bit his lip and returned to the piping. That wasn't what he was expecting. This was a freighter right? Shouldn't the captain be a bit more conservative with the fate of his livelihood on the line?

The damage was indeed extensive. "This is some pretty hardcore damage, sir. I don't think we can fix it all," the technician reported.

"Agreed and with the captain not wanting to shut down the system we might as well just be sticking a finger in a dike and hoping it works," Trip answered. He got close to the damage. "Does this look odd to you?"

"Sir?"

"Look closely," Trip said. He pointed at the nearly five meter long crack that had several offshoots. His hand traced the crack. "There is no scaring or dents to make it combat damage. It's also expanded _outwards_."

Trip looked at the technician who appeared confused. "Basic physics. The Warp Core is kept in a void, so the only pressure being exerted on the pipe is from the plasma within. So if the pipe is expanded outward..."

"There is some blockage in the piping," the technician finished.

"Exactly. Now how does plasma discharge build up?"

"Rapid heating and cooling. But that only happens when coming out of Warp."

"And for a buildup this size they'd have to be jumping at an insane interval for months. So the question is how did it get this bad?"

Up on the Andorian's bridge the situation seemed to be coming to a head. The officers were huddling into camps and their murmurs rose into the air like smoke. Their clothing looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks. Most of their hair was extremely disheveled. Only the first officer appeared to have some physical wellness and the only one trying to focus on his job. Even so, his face was stuck in an expression of doubt.

The young captain entered the bridge, silencing the crew. Everyone looked at him. His first officer cleared his throat. "Sir, the crew is concerned about the situation," he said. Most of the others nodded in agreement.

"The pink skins don't know what's going and for whatever reason, the knife ears aren't attacking us. The situation is well under control," the captain explained.

"Even if they fix it, we barely have enough crew to man the ship and our supplies are running short!" one of the crew shouted. He received a roar of approval.

"Are you saying we should surrender to the knife ears?" one of the dissenters asked. He received a good chunk of audience approval.

"They'll keep chasing us even if we get things fixed and the Empire will just hand us back to the knife ears as pirates!"

That was the last straw as crew broke into a messy brawl. The captain tried to regain control of the situation. His pleas were lost in the wall of violence. He tried separating his men to no avail. The first officer watched in despair for a moment before disappearing off the bridge.

Things on _Enterprise_ 's bridge were in a similar state of deterioration. Reed and Mayweather were about to break out into a fist fight right on the bridge and the other members of the crew present might very well join them. T'Pol looked at the time. She was in charge and was failing miserably at it. If she made the wrong call, the quadrant might very well go to hell. Even in a better case, Archer would be killed and T'Pol would garner another mark on her record.

It wasn't animosity that was driving the men's argument. They were panicked with the disappearance of their captain. T'Pol's actions needed to be decisive if she were to regain control. The Vulcan marched over to her bickering officers and gently pushed them away from each other. The demonstration of her Vulcan strength was enough to shut them up without a word. It was crude but her studies of humans before going to Earth established that they communicated much better through non-verbal gestures.

Reed was pushed back about half a meter and Mayweather a little more. The men fell silent. There was a look of shock on their faces but it quickly faded.

T'Pol turned to Reed. "We'll storm the aft, Lieutenant. You will have twenty minutes to locate the crew. If you can't find them in that time or are repelled too strongly, you will exfiltrate the ship at once and return to _Enterprise_. If you do find them, bring them back. We'll buy whatever time you need," she said. Despite the monotone of her voice, she was able to make it sound commanding.

"Yes ma'am," Reed answered. He did frown a bit. "How will I know what 'repelled too strongly' is?"

"I'll trust your judgment Lieutenant," T'Pol said. She turned to Mayweather. "Ensign Mayweather, can you take them in?" she asked as she turned to the helmsman.

Travis nodded. "As close as possible, ma'am," he said.

"Good, get going. I'll monitor things from here. I believe the human phrase 'good luck,' is applicable at this junction," T'Pol said. The crew nodded in apprehension as they returned to their stations, with Reed and Mayweather going to the shuttle bay.

 _To be Continued..._

* * *

A/N: And we're back to it. One of the major problems across the Trek franchise has been technobabble. You know those scenes were the problem is described solely in fancy science terms that make little sense when broken down with the occasional trite graphic. While I'll admit that when dealing with fictional technology there is some inevitability to it, I contented that it should be used sparingly. If you watched say Voyager, you are very familiar with technobabble. I'm going to do my best to keep it contained and using real science when necessary.


	6. First Star on the Right… (Part 2) II

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 2: First Star on the Right… Part 2_

Act II

Archer was patiently sitting against a bulkhead of the Engineering Overlook across from Hoshi. The two had been waiting for a while now and eerie boredom had crept in. He had spent most of the time hoping not to succumb to Stockholm Syndrome. Coming to the defense of his captors wasn't exactly becoming of a Starfleet officer, especially of his status.

Hoshi was in the midst of her odd scratching habit. It brought a smile to the man's face. He remembered the first time he saw her perform the ritual. It was the first day of spring semester at the academy. Despite the room Archer was given to teach being filled to capacity, he could see how alone Hoshi was. Even before the fallout she had with Starfleet, she was the odd woman out.

When Archer started the class, Hoshi didn't even take notice. Her response to roll call was about as uncommitted as an officer in training could give. Archer's lecture was dutifully ignored by the young Hoshi for the first few minutes until he finally called on her to answer a question.

The whole room fell into shock when the woman not only answered on the first call, but answered it correctly with an almost bored tone. She locked eyes with the captain. It was as if she was daring him to question her again. In that moment Archer realized he had someone special in his class. He wasn't one to play politics at the academy, but when things started…going south for her: Archer stepped up. He couldn't get her to come back when her required service was over but kept tabs on her. Now after getting her back, it looked like they'd already reached the end.

His nostalgic musings were cut short when a new Andorian entered the room. He got into a quick argument with the guards before they ran off, leaving the humans alone with the new alien. Archer stood up. Hoshi followed suit.

The Andorian locked the door. The Captain watched as Hoshi began to subtly drop into a combat stance. He felt his heart rate rise. The Andorian put his finger to his lips.

"I'm the first officer of this vessel and I'm here to help you," he whispered. Hoshi looked a bit surprised.

"And why's that?" she asked.

"Because this ship is on her last legs, we're low on supplies, and there's a Vulcan Frigate sitting not far away," he said.

Archer shared a skeptical glance with Hoshi. "Why should we trust you? That's how we got stuck here in the first place if remember," Archer pointed out.

The Andorian officer nodded. He reached into his pocket and handed Archer one of the pair's communicator. Archer grabbed it and opened it, contacting his ship with the push of a button.

"This is Sub-commander T'Pol, acting captain of the Starfleet vessel _Enterprise_ ," the Vulcan woman answered with cold precision. Never in his life had the captain felt so relieved to hear a monotone voice.

"T'Pol, it's Archer. Give me a status report," Archer ordered.

"Yes sir, _Enterprise_ is unharmed and we have been joined by a Vulcan frigate," T'Pol complied. That caught Hoshi's attention.

"Alright, we are supposed to be hostages of the Andorians. As of now Ensign Hoshi and I are not. But I think we're stuck here."

Archer looked at the Andorian who nodded. "Yes, definitely stuck."

"The situation isn't as grim as I predicted," T'Pol stated. Vulcan optimism in action was such an odd thing to behold.

"See I'm not the only cynical one," Hoshi muttered in agreement.

"There is no need to worry captain, the situation is under control," the Vulcan insisted. "Apologies, but I need to cease communication now."

The call went down. The trio exchanged a nervous glance. "What do you think she meant?" Hoshi asked. In the distance the sounds of rampage echoed from further up the ship.

"Hopefully something that won't get us all killed," the Andorian suggested.

Archer straightened up a bit. He eyed the alien. "My crew knows how to handle themselves," he said. He worked hard to keep his tone steady and strong.

"I hope so, Captain. I can't guarantee they won't run into opposition. These men here, they're tired and scared and well…not exactly Andoria's brightest," he said.

"What exactly are you?" Hoshi asked. The Andorian shrugged.

"At first we were patriots. This young noble walks into this bar where most of us disgruntled by the Empire's foreign policies. Most of us were crew on freighters that had been laid off thanks to the trade breakdown a couple years ago. He tells us that he has a ship and is looking from a crew. He says that he was going to push back the Vulcans in the name of the Empire."

"So what happened?" Archer asked. The alien shook his head.

"At first we simply chased off Vulcan scouts and prowled at the edges their colonies. Then we started attacking freighters. I think it was then that we realized there was no going back. We were nothing more than opportunistic pirates in the guise of brave soldiers of the empire. We lost ourselves..."

A shuttlepod helmed by Mayweather was making its final approach to the Andorian ship. In the hold were the nine members of the boarding party, including Reed. There was a weird silence over the group. Mayweather felt like his heart was about to pop out of his chest. His hands were able to keep steady as he brought them in.

The pod latched onto the top of the ship. Mayweather hit a button and an airlock was established between the crafts. One of the makeshift troops opened a hatch and another brought up a blowtorch. The humans started to break in. Four minutes of tense carving was rewarded with the paneling m breached. The boarding party entered the ship, Phase Pistols at the ready. Reed hit a button on his stop watch.

The party heard the sounds of screaming and blaster fire. His team deployed into three squads of three. The squads began to comb the ship. One of them ran across the heart of an Andorian mutiny near the mess hall. The aliens were exchanging swears and phaser blasts.

The humans began to quietly fall back, the second team having worse luck. They were engaged with a small band of loyalist. It was an intense battle with the humans forced back as the red alert klaxon sounded.

Reed's team made it to engineering, first taking the overlook. He was greeted by Captain Archer. The other two took aim at the Andorian with them. "I take it this is control?" Ensign Hoshi quipped.

Reed gave Hoshi an indignant glace to get a noncommittal from the woman. "We're here to get you back sir," he reported. Hoshi smiled. Archer turned to the men targeting the Andorian. The Alien had dropped to his knees, hands behind his head.

"You men can stand down, he's with us. Sort of," Archer said. The men did as ordered, allowing the alien to relax a bit. All eyes turned to the captain.

Archer nodded. "The repair team is still with the Warp Core," Archer said.

"Yes sir," Reed replied. He pulled out a communicator. "All teams fall back to the Warp Core," the lieutenant ordered. He was given two affirmatives.

"Shall we, sir?" Reed asked.

Archer looked to the Andorian. "Care to join us?" he asked. The alien shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, Captain. I'll slink off to my quarters and wait for the Vulcans to come," he said. He gave a nod of his head and departed.

The humans made their way through the corridors down to the Warp Core. Archer punched the comm. "Trip, it's the Captain. Time to pack up and leave," he said.

He waited a minute for a response. "We're almost done in here, sir," Trip answered.

"Yeah well it turns out we've been tricked. Turns out they're pirates of some sort."

"Really? Well that explains a lot," Trip mused.

"Yeah so let's go—"

Archer was cut off by an incoming phaser blast. The last team had made it and they brought friends. Reed and the other members of the boarding party went to shore up a small perimeter.

The Captain got back to the comm. "Actually never mind," Archer said. Even after his words came out, the airlock opened up, allowing Trip out. He dodged an energy blast by half a hair with. The engineer quickly ducked down with his captain and the pair closed the door before getting to better cover. Trip threw off his helmet.

"I didn't imagine it was this bad," he commented.

"Oh you know, just another day at the office," Archer said with a desperate sigh. Trip looked around. His eyes locked on Sato. He moshed for the Ensign to join them.

Sato took a deep breath and hurried across the firefight. She glared at Trip once she was safely on the other side. "This had better be good, commander," she growled.

"That depends, can you read Andorian?"

The woman pulled out her data pad. "What do you need exactly?"

A clever smile climbed onto Trip's face. He turned to his Captain. "Now this going to sound crazy," Trip started. Sato couldn't help but groan. Archer motioned for him to finish. "But I think we can bargain our way off."

"How do you figure?" Archer asked.

"We take the Warp Core hostage."

"Oh, we just take an anti-matter/matter reactor…hostage? I retract my previous reaction. This is the most brilliant plan I've ever heard," Hoshi said. Trip glared her. She raised her hands in defense. "I'm being mostly serious."

Archer scratched just under his eye. "You're going to threaten to blow us all up aren't you?" he sighed.

"Self-preservation is a pretty ingrained instinct in livin' things. I think they'll be willing to listen," Trip insisted.

"But if they call our bluff…well then it's game over for us," Archer somberly pointed out. Trip shook his head.

"We aren't going to bluff sir."

"Okay in order to do that, we'd need the Warp Core on. To do that we'd need to be on the bridge, which is thataway," Sato pointed out. She then indicated towards the center area of the fight. Two of Archer's crew were down and being tended to by a third.

Trips brow twitched in irritation. "Yeah, that's why you're going to run a diagnostic from the Engineering Overlook," he said.

"Okay, sounds simple enough," Sato said.

"Yep. We should have about thirty minutes before the Core goes critical," Trip added.

"Thirty minutes?" Archer repeated. Trip gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "Alright fine. I'm trusting you on this one." The captain gave his chief his communicator. Sato began to craw to the Engineering Overlook and Archer took over tending the wounded.

Hoshi made it to the Overlook. She pulled out her data pad, and went to the main console. "Keep calm Hoshi, you're just an untrained comms officer about to mess with one of the most powerful inventions ever devised by intelligent creatures. Should be simple enough," she muttered to herself. She called Trip.

"Alright, what's up Commander?" she finally said.

"Look for a largish button labeled something like 'diagnostic cold start,'" Trip said. Hoshi looked around, using the translations that came up on her data pad.

"Found it."

"Okay, punch it."

Hoshi did so. An alarm started to go off. She felt a small sweat compile on her brow. "Uh commander?"

"Relax, Sato. It's detected excess blockage. To get around it, find the 'general override' button."

She found the button and pushed it, silencing the alarm. She could see the Warp Core start to glow. The crew inside the chamber dropped what they were doing and stepped away. "What's next?"

"That's it. Now it's up to the captain."

Trip handed the communicator back to the captain. Archer took it, setting it to all frequencies.

"Attention Andorian crew, this is Captain Johnathan Archer of the Starfleet craft _Enterprise_. My crew has activated the Warp Core. If you do not cease hostility in thirty minutes, the Core goes critical and we all go straight to hell," Archer commandingly proclaimed over the comm.

It took a good five minutes for the fighting to stop. Archer switched over to _Enterprise_ 's frequency. "T'Pol, contact our Vulcan friends. Tell them it's safe to come aboard," he ordered.

"Aye, sir," the Vulcan replied.

Pretty soon the Andorian craft was crawling with Vulcan marines. Hoshi switched off the Warp Core before things got heated.

T'Pol had joined Archer at the airlock connecting the Vulcan ship to the Andorian. She was standing at ease next to her captain. They watched as the last of the Andorians were escorted off.

The Vulcan commander came up to them. He looked over the two. "I'm surprised that you made it Captain Archer. The odds weren't favorable," he said.

"My crew happens to be very skilled. As evidence by our success today," Archer responded.

"Skilled or not, Captain, you need to be more weary of the situations out here. Boldness will not serve you well."

Archer crossed his arms. "You'll find that boldness is how we humans have gotten so far. I'm not going to give something so important up. I'll be wearier in the future but it won't stop me and my crew from exploring or helping those who need it," he declared.

"How…human of you. Very well captain. I'll make sure that these pirates get due justice," he said. He gave a Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper."

Over on the shuttle, most of the crew had boarded and were waiting for the Captain. Hoshi was sitting up in the cockpit with Travis. She watching a massive dust storm rage on the lifeless planet they were above.

Hoshi shook her head and started to go over her data pad. "So space cowboy, were you worried?" Hoshi asked.

"I wasn't exactly wowed by the sub-commander, and while I thought she made wrong decision at first…well Reed is a hell of soldier it seems," Travis said.

"No spare thoughts for me?" Hoshi teased.

Travis nervously smiled. "There wasn't exactly a lot of time," he said. Hoshi rolled her eyes. "Trust me Ms. Sato, I was thinking about everyone in danger." His words word stumbling out of his

"Just messing with you, space cowboy. I get it, the situation wasn't easy to think about the small stuff," Hoshi said.

Reed popped into the cabin. "The captain is on the way, so let's get this tub warmed up," he ordered. Travis pulled himself up to the console and began turning on the engines. The last of the Enterprise crew got on the shuttle and the hull was sealed behind them.

A small contingent of the crew was there to greet the returning captain. A nervous looking technician approached the Captain. He handed Archer a data pad. "We picked this up not long after the Vulcan's boarded. It's sourced to the Andorian ship," he said. It was a message of some sort of message, but obscured under seriously heavy encryption.

Archer looked to T'Pol and Hoshi. "I think this is your area of expertise," he said.

 _To be Continued..._


	7. First Star on the Right… (Part 2) III

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 2: First Star on the Right… Part 2_

Act III

Archer was sitting in his quarters. Porthos was sitting at his feet. The captain had just sat down after going through his medical checkup. Thanks to his station he was the first in and first out. The lights were dimmed and his eyes were staring out into the void of space. His thoughts were going through the events.

His door rang. "Come in," he said. The door hissed open and Sub-commander T'Pol entered. She walked up to the captain with a data pad in hand. She stood at attention. Archer gave a gentle wave of his hand to get the Vulcan to relax a bit. She probably didn't get the move as she remained in her usual Vulcan state. Archer smiled a bit as he reached for the data pad.

T'Pol gave it to him. It was a message from Star Fleet Command telling him essentially they were glad he wasn't dead. Bravado and compassion were good and all but Archer needed to be more cautious while Star Fleet was still so young. Archer smiled at the note. The next item on the pad wasn't so heartwarming.

The Vulcans were doubling their border patrols and creating an exclusion zone along the border as well. All non-Vulcan ships, with the exception of human ships will be destroyed on sight. Archer remembered what the Admirals showed him back on Earth. War was coming. And everyone knew it.

"Tell me T'Pol, what do you think of this report?" Archer asked. He showed her the details of her government's latest move.

"It is logical. An Andorian pirate vessel was able to get so far into Vulcan territory shows that there are gaps in the system that needs to be closed," she said.

"Yes but at the same time, it looks like aggressive action and it might provoke the Andorians. But let me ask: if war were to break out tomorrow, would you want to return to your people and fight?" Archer followed up.

"Sir, what is the point of these questions. My loyalty is to the Council, and my assignment is here. There is nothing more to it, sir," T'Pol rather acerbically retorted. Archer turned to his science officer with a surprised look on his face.

"I'm genuinely curious. So humor me: would you rather stay with us or go fight with your people?"

T'Pol remained oddly silent. Archer could make out some rather subtle facial movements it the Vulcan's face. It sort of looked like she was uncomfortable with the question. Though he wasn't sure. "I am an officer sworn to defend the values and homes of my people, and I will do as my oath demands and follow my orders," she answered.

"Very well," Archer said with a sigh. It wasn't meant as a test of loyalty or at least that's what he thought anyway. He handed the pad back to T'Pol. "You did a good job today. Command was thrusted on you and you didn't crack under pressure."

The Vulcan took the pad. "There is no need for praise captain. I only fulfilled my duty to the best of my abilities as one of your officers. Your people in turn did the same," she insisted. Archer shook his head.

"You're serving on a human ship T'Pol. It might do you some good to accept some praise. It will help you seem…"

"More human, sir?" T'Pol recommended. Archer's brow rose a bit.

"Well you don't have to be so blunt about it," he countered.

"I understand the sentiment, sir. It doesn't strike me as logical though."

"You know, not everything has to be logical," Archer said, probably to the Vulcan's distain.

"Do you require anything else, sir?"

"No, you're dismissed."

T'Pol took her leave and began her walk back through the grey halls to the bridge. On the way she had a run in with Ensign Sato, who was going to deliver a report. She eyed the Vulcan a bit before continued on. The Sub-commander wasn't sure how to respond to the look or what it was for. Humans and their constant swirling emotions was something she trained for but still found…odd.

They had worked well together when they decrypted the message. Her mathematical work was able break the code and Ensign Sato proved quite the useful translator, showing remarkable understanding of Andorian.

Hoshi brushed past her superior with an odd expression, she hoped it wasn't offensive. Probably not because…well, Vulcan. By all counts, the sub-commander had done a solid job with helping them get out. She couldn't shake the…otherness of the Vulcan. Years training as in xeno-linguist hadn't been enough to prepare for how difficult it was to read them. Vulcan body language was so slight and nuanced that Hoshi still wasn't an expert at it. Mix in their limited facial expressions and the she might as well have tried to talk with a computer.

The Ensign shook the thoughts out of her head. She had finished translating the message. It was a strange message, filled with references to various characters and motifs found in Andorian literature. It took some sifting to figure out what it all meant. That was what she loved about the job after all. Any moron could translate one language into another. What took skill was the ability to break it down and understand the idioms, metaphors, and oddities that added depth to language.

Her analysis was that this was a private message and based on the usage it was from someone with an education in Andorian Classics. That was solely based on her own understanding. The message was sent to Starfleet HQ, so maybe someone with more knowledge of the whole situation. She entered the captain's quarters and delivered her report before going to the mess hall. She grabbed her food. With that she sat alone amongst the crowded room.

In sickbay, Reed and Tucker were dressed down to their pants and being looked over by the nurse, Ensign Crane. Doctor Phlox was seeing to the other members of the boarding party and the damage control team. The alien's cheery demeanor lightened up the rather sterile looking sickbay, with the clinical white walls and slick medical machines. It wasn't enough to block the petting zoo like smell that permeated the place.

Crane was dressed in a loose fitting blue garment and had a flash light on her head band. She was finishing up a scan of the men. "I still think this is unnecessary," Tucker pouted as the nurse retracted her scanner. His body was pretty well in shape, with the smallest signs of abs peeking through.

"Sorry commander, the doctor wants a full physical of the crew," Crane said. She packed up her scanner and went to the side computer to start transferring the data. Her attention was quickly consumed by the flood of data.

"I take it getting our records from Starfleet medical was just too much effort?" Reed quipped. Tucker nodded in agreement. Reed was a man in peak physical form and in the prime of his life. Crane occasionally took note of the man's physique with quick glances.

"I find that a physical is a good way to get to know my patients without getting too intrusive," Phlox insisted. He had joined the trio. "Besides, those records only say you are healthy enough for Starfleet."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Tucker asked; the indignity of his tone as bear as his chest.

Phlox checked the read out from Crane's scanner from over her shoulder. "Only that while Starfleet has high standards, I believe that they are a bit lax. Not to worry though, I'm not going to be a total tyrant over it," he said. He shot Tucker a finger gun. "However I'm going to have to request you cut back on all the fried food, commander. Your blood pressure is a little high."

Tucker mumbled something, playing up his accent a bit. The act was enough to make Reed laugh. Phlox then brought his attention to Reed.

"As for you lieutenant, well I won't mention it here but I'm going to request you keep from intimate contact with the crew, please," the doctor insisted. That got Tucker to snort and Reed to turn a bit red. Crane rolled her eyes.

"You're free to go gentlemen," she said. The men gathered their cloths, dressed, and departed.

Back in Archer's cabin, the captain was now standing up. He was clutching Hoshi's report. Earlier when he had mostly joked with T'Pol, it was supposed to elevate his fears of war. But this new report added a level of fear to his words.

If Hoshi was right, then war was right around the corner. They were now a bad day away from unleashing a monster that might very well cost humanity its future. Archer did take the report with a grain of salt. This was just the analysis of his comms officer. Hoshi was good, but there were so many things they didn't know that it could just be nothing more than pretty words on a page.

Archer stared out is view port, his mind now on the future and what darkness lurked out there.

 _To be Continued..._

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A/N: War as a whole is an interesting thing, in a purely intellectual/socio-political sense. It involves hundreds upon thousands of individual stories coalescing into this overarching event. And with few exceptions, they are surprisingly predictable. For example Otto von Bismark famously called both the cause and date of the First World War decades before it happened. Hell, remember DS9? Okay, so why don't we stop these things in advance if we can make such predictions? Well that comes down to how you see humanity really. I'll talk about this later.


	8. First Star on the Right… (Part 2) IV

The following is a non-profit, fan work based off the respective works Gene Roddenberry, Rick Berman, and Brannon Braga

All rights belong to the original creators, CBS, and Paramount

The Bluefire Phoenix presents...

 _Enterprise Prime  
Episode 2: First Star on the Right… Part 2_

Act IV

On Andoria, the Imperial court was in a kerfuffle. The gossip buzzing in the geometrically designed Grand Foyer was enough to penetrate into the Imperial Council's private meeting room in the chamber to the right of the throne. Everything about the hall spoke to an older grander time that had been recaptured in all its glory. All the courtiers' whispers came to a sudden stop when the main doorway parted open.

A Grand Admiral, dressed his pristine white uniform marched through the crowd. His intimidating guards pushed aside all in his way. The council room doors opened for him as he stepped up to it. The door closed, leaving him alone in an antechamber.

The admiral braced himself as he entered the chamber proper. The council had filled out all the seats at the table. It was cold in the chamber. All eyes of the dozen member council were on the Admiral. Anger was clearly seething from every one of the Admiral's pores.

"Admiral Rawnth, it is a pleasure to see you again," The Minister of State asked. The female's hands were locked together in front of her. The Admiral simply nodded to her. He briefly cleared his throat.

"I wish to know what the Council plans to do to get back the Emperor's cousin," he stated. The static the emerged was dense enough to make some antennas twitch.

"Your son chose to be a pirate, Admiral. What would you have us do?" The Minister Justice asked. He received support from some of the other councilors.

"He is a possible emperor and you'd let him languish in a Vulcan penal colony?"

"He is twenty-fifth in line, Admiral. And even then, without the Matriarch's support he'd never have control of the Empire. Not without another pillar of support," the Queen-Regent spoke up. The room fell silent to her icy words.

All eyes turned to the recently widowed leader. She wore a gown of sapphire blue that shimmered in the odd lighting of the chamber. The dowager-empress was a stunning example of Andorian beauty. Power flowed from her very pore.

She shifted around in the chair. Rawnth frowned at her statement. "Are you implying something, _dowager_ -empress?" he asked.

"Only that your concern for the wellbeing of your son is commendable to every parent. However you've both overestimated his value to the Empire and failed reign him in when he needed it. You have our sympathies Admiral, and beyond our usual diplomatic protests, you do not have our support," the dowager-empress declared. "Now go and continue to serve your emperor."

Rawnth stormed out of the palace. His wake sent even more worried whispers into the air. He boarded his shuttle and took off to his private residents deep in the woods. Sitting across from him was a younger Andorian in a silver uniform. The admiral watched the wilderness below through a viewport built into the floor.

"They have abandoned your brother," he remorsefully said.

"Are you surprised?"

"No. The queen regent is only two years away from losing most of her power. An uppity admiral whose son has a claim to the throne is not someone she'd support," he said.

"Then what would you have done?" the son asked.

"At the moment, I want you to investigate this new Human ship. When the drums of war call our soldiers to battle, we need to know just how dangerous they'll be in a war."

"They are still fresh on the scene. What danger could they pose?" the younger of the two asked.

"We are playing a very dangerous game. Anything that might give the Vulcans an advantage needs to be accounted for. The Vulcans have been efficient in keeping our intelligence operations from getting close, but this _Enterprise_ is wide open for observation," the admiral declared.

"I see your point father. I shall ready my ship at once," his son responded. His father leaned forward.

"This mission is off the record. Use back channel suppliers only. If anyone asks you are on the business of the regency council."

"Understood."

"One more thing: you are only to observe. Do not engage," the admiral warned. His posture relaxed some. "But if you find your brother and an opportunity to rescue him arises, act on it and bring him home and you will be richly rewarded."

The son nodded with a smile. It was a polite simple smile pointed to a bright future. "I will keep it all in the shadows, father."

Across the stars on the dry planet of Vulcan, things were in a much more tense. A difficult thing to accomplish for such a stoic people. The Security Council's meeting chamber was particularly thick with the feeling as a young intelligence officer was preparing for an important meeting. Vulcan tended to abstain from gossip, but a report from the border had arrived and was starting to stir things up.

A mug shot of a young aristocratic Andorian male came up on the screen. "This is Narwn Sichs, son of Admiral Rawnth. He was taken into our custody after his raider was damaged thanks in part to Captain Archer of Starfleet. So far no special requests have been made for his release," the intelligence officer reported.

"Is it true that he is cousin of the emperor?" One of the younger members of the Council asked.

The officer nodded. "Yes ma'am. His mother is the younger sister of the deceased emperor. We've estimated that he is somewhere near thirtieth in line for the throne," he stated.

"His father will probably not take this sitting down," another councilor pointed out. The officer shook his head.

"Rawnth's family is currently out of favor with Narwn's maternal grandmother. Without her support, the Admiral won't be able to do much more than write us a message requesting Narwn's release. Anything else might risk his rank being revoked," he explained.

"Then what should we do with the boy?"

"The official Andorian response has been to disown Narwn as a pirate. Thus he is subject to the previously established rules."

"Is it wise to throw such a high ranking member of the Andorian up in a hard labor penal colony?"

"It might encourage other Andorian nobles to take up the banner of piracy if they know they'd get a cozy stay if captured."

"Perhaps some form of isolation from the general population."

"We can discuss the punishment of the boy at another time. For now we must focus on the Andorian response," the head of the council spoke up. She turned to the officer. "So you believe that the Andorians will abstain from violent action?"

"Yes ma'am, we've accounted for just about everything. The Andorians will respond diplomatically. Our analysts are sure this won't lead to conflict."

Back on Andoria, night had fallen. Rawnth's other son was walking with another Andorian officer on the perimeter of a sleek Andorian Prowler. It was armed with six phasers and three torpedo tubes. The Prowler was designed with retractable Nacelles and a set of ion engines.

"Captain, are you sure this is wise, Rawn?" the first officer asked as the approached the loading ramp. The captain looked to the officer.

"My father made a request of me. If we succeed, I'll be heavily rewarded and be able to share that reward with you and my crew," Rawn said.

"Your brother is nothing but a political pawn for your father. Let him rot, and wait for the war. Prove yourself then," the first officer countered. Rawn turned to his companion with a stern, but sympathetic glare.

"What would you have me do, simply…refuse the Admiral?" he asked. His tone wasn't a growl but it still had an undercurrent of menace that made his companion quiver a bit.

"Of course not sir, but there must be some better use for us than spying on the pink skins."

"Tell me, Larwren, what is the name of the human vessel that assisted with the capture of my brother?"

"Sir?"

"What is the name of the Human home world?"

"What is the point of this sir?"

"The _point_ Larwren, is that we know very little about the humans. My father isn't so blind as to throw his only remaining son into the fray if it wouldn't benefit the empire," Rawn pointed out. They walked up the ramp into the Prowler.

The halls were narrow, barely allowing for the two males to walk parallel. The ceiling was trying not to add to the cramped space but failed repeatedly, forcing heads to bow.

"This still strikes me as a waste of time, sir. The humans are new to the galaxy, they couldn't stand against the Imperial Guard."

"No, but they are allied with the Vulcans. They may end up giving them an advantage in the future conflict."

"You overestimate them, Rawn."

"Will you say that when Vulcan banners line the Imperial Palace with a human plan as the catalyst to our downfall?"

"I apologize, captain."

The two stopped and Rawn braced Larwren's shoulder. "There will come a time when we will fight in a proper war. Until then trust my father like you trust me," Rawn said. Larwren nodded.

Rawn and Larwren entered the bridge. Said bridge was a tight semicircle. The helm station was at the apex of the arc, in front of the Command Table. Larwren took up the sensor station on the table.

"Sir, we are ready to depart," the helm reported.

"Good, as soon as there is a gap in the sensor screen, depart for the border."

Rawn smirked as his Prowler rose into the air, ready to take him to destiny.

The End

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A/N: With that we must bid adieu, for now.

I don't want this to be a total solo project so if you have a suggestion for an episode, hit me up with a PM or leave it in a review.

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Next time on _Enterprise Prime_ :

The _Enterprise_ is about to mark a major human achievement. But things go awry when the crew finds themselves in the middle of a dangerous battle.


End file.
